Comfort
by NathanPresgoat
Summary: After Nathan does a no-show to the highly anticipated event of the century: Warren Graham's Epic Movie Night, said pioneer of the arts becomes worried about his boyfriend. The next day he finds Nathan in his room and endeavors to find out what is wrong.


Nathan Prescott had never understood why so many people were afraid of the dark. He supposed it had something to do with ambiguity; the fear of the unknown or something like that. But to him, he had always found refuge in the dark corners the world - as all do when they wish not to be seen.

It was midday and sunlight was strong - impossible to stop the golden tendrils of the sun's rays from creeping into his room, despite his drawn curtains. Nathan didn't mind - a little light didn't hurt anybody - and he kind of liked the way it made his windows the dim centerpiece of his dark room. You know, from an artistic standpoint.

He was huddled in the corner, the image of the doorway blocked by his bed and surrounded close on all sides but one. Enclosed spaces made him feel safe - safer. His auditory connection to the world was muffled by headphones which instead filled his head with the sound of whale cries. Again, it helped with anxiety. Not that either one was doing a swell job of it now, but it was better than nothing.

Waiting it out was always the hard part, but he knew it'd leave eventually. Even if today was worse than usual, it'd stop. It'd stop. It'd stop. It'd stop. He repeated: it'd stop, it'd stop, like a mantra; like a prayer.

The door opened slowly but Nathan did not notice in his almost trance-like state. Warren crept across the floor, socks softening the thud of his footsteps as he approached. He wanted to announce his presence but didn't know how to do so without startling Nathan and so he merely stood, watching as Nathan rocked himself back and forth gently.

Nathan opened his eyes and Warren was pleased when he didn't cry out in fear. Instead he made a disappointed sigh and directed his gaze at the floor, removing a single earplug as he did so.

"Hey, Nathan," Warren said and took a step forward. "I'm guessing this is why you didn't show up to the e _vent of the century_ last night?"

Nathan nodded and then, remembering the dark he had shrouded himself in, said aloud, "Sorry."

"Don't be," Warren responded with the smallest of laughs. Nathan didn't look but felt Warren's body slide in next to his own soon after. "Are you okay?"

"No," Nathan's trembling voice replied.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Nathan said again, but he didn't mean it. Instead he meant, "I don't know how". So he found Warren's hand in the darkness as a plea to stay despite his words.

Warren squeezed and Nathan felt his heart jump into his throat.

"Please," he began, chest on fire, heart beating with anxiety. He was scared and vulnerable but desperate. "C-can I please have a hug?"

The simple request seemed like the climbing of a mountain in Nathan's current state but he was soon soothed as Warren's arms easily complied his wishes. Nathan's smaller frame was pulled onto Warren's lap, warmth spilling out of him and into Nathan, arms secure and mouth close.

"There," Warren said absentmindedly, his breath landing on Nathan's skin and setting his nerves dancing pleasantly over his back and down his spine. Warren again squeezed and Nathan felt like he might melt into the welcome, comforting embrace.

When Warren loosened his grip, Nathan could similarly feel the tightness in his own chest unraveling.

"What's going on, baby?" Warren asked, the use of the term setting Nathan's heart beating faster again, but with a different kind of speed.

After a long pause, Nathan was able to answer. "I don't know," he muttered truthfully.

Trying to pinpoint the problem in the murky swamps of his brain felt akin to trying to locate a single grain of rice in a bag.

He continued despite himself, allowing his mouth to move on it's own, as if by instinct. "Everything has just felt so fucked up lately. Like it's all out of place or something?"

Warren did not respond with words and instead pulled Nathan closer and buried his face in Nathan's neck. Nathan made a surprised squeaking noise that he caught Warren laughing at briefly. He'd laugh back any other time but in the moment he did not know how.

When the silence stretched on too long Warren gave another little squeeze and said, "Go on, I'm listening."

Nathan groaned in frustration. "It's just not right! I mean outside of my head too, space feels weird. Nothing makes sense I can't even remember…. anything."

As Nathan spoke his thoughts began to align more coherently, Warren's presence a constant source of comfort.

"Sometimes I just feel like a broken machine, you know? Sometimes I get like this and it's hard to know what's real and the more it goes on the worse it gets and everything inside it's just all… jumbled. And when I get fucked up inside, it gets fucked up on the outside too and I feel like I can't go anywhere or do anything because everything is…. I dunno."

More silence passed and the two merely filled the time listening to each other's heartbeats.

"I had a fight with my dad," Nathan finally said. "He called, I don't know when he called - I don't know how long it's been."

"What was the fight about?" Warren asked.

"You," Nathan responded and then after some thought, he changed his answer. "Me. The way I am."

"Ah," Warren breathed in realisation.

"It's just another reason to be disappointed in me I guess. He just gets so up in my face, you know? He thinks I need to look a certain way and act a certain way to uphold the family name or whatthefuckever and I'm just SO fucking sick of it!" Nathan was shouting full force by the time he was finished. He stopped and allowed himself to calm before he continued. "I guess after that happened, I got like this…"

Warren pulled away from the hug to find Nathan's eyes in the dark. "Nathan…." He said, softly. "Your dad is an asshole."

Nathan almost spat laughter in response, turning his head to avoid spraying Warren in the face. Warren grinned in tow.

"Yeah," Nathan said, smiling.

"But listen," Warren continued. "You have loads of people in your life who like you just the way you are. You know Vic loves you and I'm pretty sure half of the football team would probably punch someone on your behalf. Chloe and Max are like your sisters in queer arms and I kinda need you to be gay. If you weren't, I wouldn't be able to kiss your face and I don't know if you know this, but I REALLY like kissing your face. "

Nathan's smile had extended out ear to ear. He leaned in and allowed Warren to do what he so loved. His lips were warm and soft as they brushed against Nathan's own.

"I love you," Warren said. "And I need you to know you can rely on me if you ever feel jumbled up again. We can have movie night any time, I would have cancelled in an instant to come see you." Warren paused, realising the zealousness of his own words. "I just… don't like the thought of you hauled up in here alone when you're feeling like this."

Nathan gently bumped his forehead against Warren's, unable to continue looking him in the eye. "Love you too. I'll try, I guess."

Warren groaned in mock annoyance as he pulled Nathan in to kiss him again. "You had me really god damn worried you know? And you missed some great movies! If we rescheduled, you could have seen them. And don't even pretend like you wouldn't totally dig 'em. I know you're into dark shit. I catered the night specifically to your tastes!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Nathan laughed. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

Warren looked at him slyly. "You can do that right now."

"How?"

Warren tackled Nathan to the floor and kissed him again. Nathan cackled.

"Ow! Haha you hurt my back, asshole."

"Did I? I'm sorry!" Warren whined, his tone bleeding genuine remorse.

Nathan rolled his eyes despite the huge grin on his face and pushed Warren's face away with his hands. "You worry about me too much."

"Someone has too!"

"Shut up, Graham."


End file.
